


You Fancy Me Mad (madmen know nothing)

by DREAMi_Girl



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Family, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, Murder, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2856248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DREAMi_Girl/pseuds/DREAMi_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three brothers, a fifty year old romance gone wrong, an attractive dancer and buried treasure. All elements that, when combined, are sure to bring some excitement to a sleepy seaside town. But the diamond beaches of Cape King are littered with a history of murder... and everyone in this town has a secret to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The City in the Sea

“But not the riches there that lie

In each idol's diamond eye –

Not the gaily jeweled dead

Tempt the water's from their bed;

For no ripples curl, alas!

Along that wilderness of glass –”

 

The City in the Sea, Edgar Allan Poe

* * *

 

By five o'clock, the sun had set in the seaside town of Cape King, the already cold air seeming to get even more chilly and damp with the wind blowing off the waves on the water.

 

In the large house at the end of Third Street, Jongdae crinkled his nose and frowned at the overwhelming smell of salt in the air. With a displeased huff, the auburn haired man slammed the window shut, grimacing as the glass rattled in their panes.

 

Jongdae's elder brother stuck his head around the door frame to scowl disapprovingly at him.

 

"Be careful!" Joonmyeon scolded. "This house is too old for you to be so rough with it."

 

Jongdae scoffed. "Old, my ass. Condemned is more like it."

 

He was right. The house was practically falling apart around them, the window shutters barely hanging on and all of the fabric in the house was ridden with mold and moth-eaten. The only rooms that seemed livable were the kitchen and the living room, or the parlor as Aunt Taeyeon called it - and the state of those rooms were thanks to the vigorous cleaning the boys did.

 

Legally, the house was Aunt Taeyeon's, but the old lady hadn't lived there for over forty-five years, hence the terrible state of things. Now she was allowing her great-nephews to live there, given that there was nowhere else they could go.

 

The boys' parents had passed on within a year of each other during Jongdae's last semester of college. The children had been left with very little after the funerals were paid for and Jongdae had been forced to move back in with his elder brother as he struggled to pay for his college loans. Not too long after that, Jongin, their youngest brother, joined them in apartment hopping, contributing what he could but only seeming to add to the cloud of growing debt around the kids.

 

Aunt Taeyeon's offer came like a beacon in the darkness, the old lady determined to help what little family she had left on her honor as head of the Kim family.

 

The boys had accepted her offer graciously... but that didn't mean Jongdae couldn't complain about the state of the house.

 

Joonmyeon didn't seem to share, or appreciate, his sentiments.

 

"Just be grateful it's a roof over your head." the eldest snapped, running a hand through his dark hair.

 

Jongdae stuck his tongue out at the back of Joonmyeon's head as the eldest brother left the room.

 

"I saw that!" Jongin stage whispered a moment later as he passed the room Jongdae had been cleaning, the youngest wearing a grin on his face, his arms full of cleaning products, and a trio of poodles on his heels. Jongdae smiled back at his baby brother before snatching up the trash bag he had filled with rotten curtains and even more dust.

 

The night air bit cruelly into his skin as he darted outside to dump the trash in the big can outside, barely stopping long enough to acknowledge the pretty blond across the street, his neighbor much wiser and warmer, bundled up in a jacket and scarf.

 

Jongdae sighed in relief as he collapsed next to Jongin on the futon in the parlor, the roaring fire and the heat from his brother's body warming him up quickly enough.

 

For the next few weeks, the boys were going to be sleeping in the parlor on futons. Jongdae and Jongin intended to fix up the house to livable standards while Joonmyeon went off to work in town's little shopping center. A job Aunt Taeyeon had helped him to get.

 

Jongdae wondered how much influence she held in the town if she could manage to get someone to award Joonmyeon the manager position before he even saw his quality of work.

 

"My hands are so cramped and pruny from scrubbing down that bathroom!" Jongin moaned pitifully, slumping onto Jongdae's shoulder. "They'll never be the same again! When you take a shower, you'd better be grateful you're not doing it in slime!" He teased Joonmyeon cheekily, earning himself a brief noogie as the eldest walked by to deposit the last of the polished china and silver in their cabinet.

 

"So do we have cable or..." Jongin wondered as Joonmyeon wandered past the antique television to the left of the fireplace.

 

"Aunt Taeyeon said she'd have someone hook it up earlier this week." Joonmyeon said a bit hesitantly, switching the ancient box on and sighing in relief as a movie began playing rather than noisy static. "Better than nothing, right?"

 

Joonmyeon looked over at them hopefully, wearing that hopeful, mushy look he always wore when he was feeling bad for being so harsh on his younger brothers.

 

Jongdae resisted the urge to hide away beneath the blankets to avoid Joonmyeon's guilt and instead rose to his feet, enveloping Joonmyeon in a hug. He intended to let go after only a moment, but Jongin leapt to his feet as well and practically smothered the both of them with a hug of his own.

 

Jongdae huffed, not quite annoyed enough to complain.

 

Jongin's dogs yipped at them, wanting a little affection of their own.

 

Jongin dropped his brothers like a pair of hot potatoes and turned to lavish his babies with love.

 

"Jongdae?" Joonmyeon asked after a moment of watching Jongin with his dogs.

 

Somehow, despite being the eldest of the three, Joonmyeon managed to look the smallest and most vulnerable of all the kids.

 

"It's fine, hyung." Jongdae sighed, smiling gently at his brother and bumping their shoulders together.

 

"It'll get better." Joonmyeon promised quietly. "We have a chance to make it here."

 

Jongdae bit his tongue to keep any snide comments to himself.

 

He hoped so too.

 


	2. Interlude (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melody

_Henry tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his violin, bow sitting next to him in the sand as he watched the beach goers move about their business._

 

_Beyond the swarm of oddly dressed people, the ocean rolled, rose and sank, almost as if sighing endlessly, the mood of it dim and the color of its waters a melancholy gray._

 

_A pair of girls wandered past him, wearing bonnets and long shawls, the hems of their woolen dresses dragging across the sands. They had been citizens of Cape King upon its founding, back when the people of the town weren't the best of farmers and many people starved to death._

 

_Henry smiled politely at them, earning himself pretty blushes and giggles from the both of them._

 

_He couldn't be bothered to flirt though, the strains of an unwritten melody floating through his mind._

 

_He picked up his bow and wiped off the damp sand before placing it to the strings of his violin and beginning to play._

 

_Not too long afterward, he was joined by an older man wearing a large leather hat with gorgeous feathered plume and playing a mandolin, who was soon followed by a younger fellow dressed in buckskins and feathers, the darker man beating along rhythmically on some sort of drum._

 

_Henry blinked at their choice of clothing in bemusement._

 

_The men were a pirate captain and a young native tribesman respectively. The captain had passed long before the town had been settled, killed by scurvy not a week after burying his treasure somewhere on the beach. He had befriended the young native's spirit later when a fight broke out between the tribe and the citizens of Cape King._

 

_Together, they finished off their brief collaboration with Henry before resuming their wandering on the beach, babbling back and forth at one another in their respective languages, unable to understand the conversation but enjoying it nonetheless._

 

_Henry watched them go in amusement before rising to his feet. He had a concert to attend. Humming to himself, Henry began to leave the beach, wondering where he left his car._

 

_It had been left in a ditch eleven years prior, the young man having been hit head on by a drunk driver on the way to his concert._

 


	3. Spirits of the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dance

"Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,

Now are visions ne'er to vanish;

From thy spirit shall they pass

No more – like dew-drop from the grass."

 

Spirits of the Dead, Edgar Allan Poe

* * *

 

A weak of nonstop work did the Kim manor wonders. While it still looked rather rundown from the outside, Jongin and Jongdae had worked tirelessly in cleaning out several of the rooms, the most significant being bedrooms for each of the boys.

 

This was an arrangement that worked best for Jongin, the youngest of the brothers no longer having to listen to the others' complaints about being squished in their sleep by the dogs. Jjanggu, Monggu, and Jjangah seemed a little disappointed that they could no longer stay with their other two favorite humans, but seemed content to crowd onto the bed with Jongin once the mattress, sheets, blankets and pillows had been replaced with new and fresh ones.

 

Jongdae had chosen the room next to Jongin's, having snagged the room with the best view of the beach from his large bay window.

 

While the middle brother of the family seemed annoyed by the heavy smell of salt and sea in the air when they first moved in, Jongdae had quickly changed his mind and now spent his every free moment wandering the empty beach, claiming that it inspired him in songwriting.

 

Which seemed to be true, considering the excellent quality of the songs he had managed to produce in the last few days.

 

Jongdae worked for a small recording company, writing songs from home and emailing the sheet music, lyrics and a small sample recording to his boss, a convenient job that allowed him quite a bit of freedom and the ability to work from home on his own time. However, Jongdae was expected to put out a minimum of songs every month to keep his job and was only paid for the songs when he sent them in, meaning that his cash income was a little... _inconsistent._

 

It was better than what Jongin had at least. The youngest Kim's main talent was dance, something that Jongin excelled in with every step and controlled breath, being good enough to go professional... but he felt like he was losing himself in all the preparations it took to get to those heights. So he stopped for a while, needing to ground himself and where better to do that than in the arms of his family.

 

Humming to himself, Jongin danced to the beat of Jongdae's new song as he carried a large bucket of cleaning supplies into the dining room.

 

Thankfully, the furniture in this room was bare of any fabrics and would only need some dusting and polishing, and the floor a bit of moping to make it shine once more. In fact, the only piece in the room that might require any extra effort would be the large, glittering chandelier that hung directly over the table.

 

Jongin stared admiringly at it, the light bouncing distractingly over the crystals, the effect a bit dulled by the layer of dust covering them and the cobwebs that were weaved intricately through the loops on the decoration.

 

The crystals jingled merrily above him, swaying lightly. From her place by Jongin's feet, Jjangah howled shrilly.

 

"What the hell?" Jongdae's bewildered voice rang through the room, startling Jongin out of his daze and Jjangah into silence. Jjanggu and Monggu trailed into the room after their master's brother, the pair whining as they descended on their sister in concern.

 

Monggu, the largest of the poodles, lifted his head to stare at the chandelier, baring his teeth a moment before leading the other dogs out of the dining room, their ears laid back and tails between their legs.

 

Jongdae and Jongin watched them go in bemusement.

 

"Alright then," Jongin eventually mumbled, exchanging a wide-eyed look with his brother.

 

Any behavior other than obnoxious and playful was considered strange for the pups, and this was the strangest Jongin had ever seen them act.

 

"It's all the dust and sanitizer." Jongdae said seriously. "They've gotten high off of it or something."

 

"You think so?" Jongin asked, taken aback by the display.

 

"Yep. Anyway, I'm going to the store to get more groceries besides microwave dinners and cereal. You want anything?"

 

"Um, yeah actually. I made some fliers you can drop off at the grocery store and Joonmyeon-hyung's work if you don't mind." Jongin explained, leading Jongdae to the printer table that had been pushed into the corner of the living room. "I'm going to try to get some people to hire me to do some yard work or something, get a little extra cash to help around here."

 

"Good idea," Jongdae praised, raising an impressed eyebrow at the stack of papers Jongin had handed off to him. "I'll drop some off with Aunt Taeyeon at the museum too."

 

Aunt Taeyeon ran Cape King's small museum which mainly revolved around the town's history with the local tribe that had been there at the time of settlement (a tribe that was now practically nonexistent) and the pirates that had once used the cove as a hideout long before the townsfolk had landed on the beaches (which were covered in millions of diamond shards, if the local legends about buried treasure were to be believed).

 

Jongin made a face at his brother. "Maybe you should just forget about going by the museum. You know Aunt Taeyeon keeps trying to needle me into working there with her."

 

Jongdae rolled his eyes at his brother's reluctance to spend any extra time with their great-aunt, but agreed to leave her out of Jongin's grand search for work.

 

Jongin waited until he heard Jongdae's car pull out of the driveway before beginning his work on the dining room, the smooth sounds of Jongdae's new demo song floating through the house as he worked.

 

The youngest Kim liked to do mindless things to relax, the burn in his muscles from accomplishing something through his own effort and strength giving him a great deal of satisfaction.

 

It was the reason he loved to dance. He'd always had a little trouble expressing himself through words but when he began to move along to the beat, any reservations he might have had about himself melted away and left nothing but his best traits.

 

Jongin danced as he cleaned, twirling around with the mop as if dancing some grand waltz, tossing around his cleaning rag while he popped-and-locked his way around the table, polishing it as he went.

 

It might have been a waste of extra effort, but it kept Jongin entertained while he worked.

 

By the time he finished cleaning all but the chandelier, he was covered in a light sheen of sweat. He nodded as he looked over his work, satisfied, and turned to head upstairs for a shower, wanting to get the sweat and dust off.

 

A towel sat waiting for him in the doorway.

 

Jongin picked it up with a brief flash of confusion.

 

Had Jongdae put it there before he left? No, Jongin didn't remember him having the time to do such a thing.

 

A quick glance through the window told him that his brothers weren't home.

 

"Did you bring me this?" he asked Jjanggu sarcastically.

 

The tiny poodle stared back at him blankly.

 

Jongin laughed a bit, using the towel to wipe his face and neck, and headed upstairs for the shower.

 

The hot water washed all of his tension away and he brushed off the delivery of the towel as a gesture from Jongdae that he must have missed.

 

Jongdae's car pulled into the driveway as Jongin was pulling his jeans on and soon the elder brother was bustling in, grocery bags rattling nosily as he brought in his purchases.

 

"Wow, this chandelier looks great now that it's been cleaned up... Good job, Jonginnie!" the songwriter called, sounding impressed.

 

Jongin froze, shirt halfway on, before pounding his way downstairs and skidding into the dining room to see what the hell Jongdae was talking about.

 

Above him the chandelier twinkled and swayed, its golden framework shining brightly in the light, not a speck of dust or a cobweb to be seen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really bad for making Taeyeon someone the boys don't like very well. I love her. She's quite adorable.


	4. Interlude (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despair

_Heechul grinned to himself as he pulled funny faces at the largest of the poodles._

 

_Monggu's curly tail thumped merrily against the floor and he pawed at the air in front of him, trying to get a petting from the man in front of him._

 

_"Sorry, pup." Heechul laughed, floating up to sit on the counter. His mother would have killed him if she caught him doing such a thing. Luckily he was already dead (and so was she). He continued speaking as Monggu stared back at him pitifully. "I couldn't pet you even if I wanted to. Downsides of being dead you see. I was always a cat person anyway. God I miss Heebum."_

 

_It might have been pointless to talk to a dog that couldn't keep up the conversation, but it had been years since Heechul had the opportunity to talk to anything other than himself and **the** **depressing one** in the dining room._

 

_He had stopped being good company years ago, the buzzkill._

 

_Monggu whined in discontent and wandered off to find Jjanggu. The pair of brown poodles had been hanging out with each other more often now that Jjangah had abandoned them for Mr. Buzzkill in the dining room._

 

_Which was fine with Heechul. He hadn't been lying when he said that he was a cat person._

 

_Heechul yawned, eyes roaming listlessly over the kitchen in search of something to entertain himself with._

 

_A distraction came in the form of the oldest kid, Joon-something or another._

 

_The kid stopped for a moment, staring at the counter where Heechul sat like he could sense some sort of rule-breaking going on._

 

_Heechul stuck his tongue out at the kid and floated out of the house._

 

_The kid reminded him too much of his mother, all proper and stuff._

 

_She had been kind for the most part, but liked to push Heechul to behave like a gentleman too often for his tastes. She often needled him about how lucky he had been to find himself such a lovely wife, considering how wild he acted._

 

_Heechul's shoulder's slumped. God, he missed her too. His pretty little Puff had been so sweet._

 

_Dying sucked._

 

_He plopped himself down onto the sidewalk in front of the house, swatting at the leaves on the ground. He scowled when his hand passed harmlessly through them._

 

_He sat there for a long time, staring aimlessly at the street and mourning his existence. He hated being stuck here._

 

_Eventually, Heechul was startled out of his brooding by an uproar inside the house. He blinked in surprise, noticing that the oldest kid's car was gone, signaling that he had left for work, and jerked back in surprise as the youngest kid bolted out the front door, dragging his older brother, the middle kid, along with him._

 

_Heechul snickered._

 

_The buzzkill must have scared them._

 

_After a moment of terrified banging on the neighbor's door, it opened to reveal one of the men who lived across the street, a rather bewildered and chubby cheeked kid with vibrant, pink hair and wide eyes._

 

_Heechul's heart leapt into his throat as he stared at the stranger._

 

_He had never seen this particular kid before... but he looked so familiar it **hurt**._

 

_The pink haired man ushered the Kim kids in after a moment of frantic babbling and closed the door behind them, but Heechul continued to stare on, stunned by the feelings that had swept through him._

 

_He needed to know who this kid was._

 


	5. The Fall of the House of Usher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unease

“ _I know not how it was – but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible. […] There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart – an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it – I paused to think – what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher?”_

 

**\- The Fall of the House of Usher, Edgar Allan Poe**

 

Minseok the cotton candy haired neighbor, Jongdae learned, was the most beloved barista in all of Cape King, known widely for his endearing good looks and even lovelier coffee.

 

Jongdae had scarcely finished his first cup before deciding that he was addicted for life and would either go broke from spending all his money at the local cafe or spend the rest of his life groveling on the neighbor's doorstep for his fix.

 

The pink haired man in question grinned at him, seeming to have read his mind.

 

Jongin, though equally taken by Minseok's addictive coffee, was unable to muster a smile, the young man looking much paler than the norm.

 

"We have to move." the dancer declared solemnly. "The house is haunted."

 

"And you obviously have lost your mind because there aren't any ghosts in our house and I'm not going anywhere. All that dust has gone to your head, Jonginnie." Jongdae said airily, rather unconcerned by his brother's dilemma. The songwriter looked at his empty cup mournfully.

 

Minseok, though a stranger to them both, was more sympathetic towards Jongin's nerves.

 

"I wouldn't worry about any ghosts just yet," the barista soothed. "These old houses have a way of making you jumpy. When I moved in here with Luhan I spent a month jumping at all the creaking and squeaky steps."

 

"Takes that long to get used to it, huh?" Jongdae wondered with mild amusement, clapping a hand on Jongin's shoulder as he rose to wash his mug out, wanting to save Minseok the trouble. "Well, if you have nightmares, it's gonna be Joonmyeon-hyung you sleep with, kiddo."

 

Minseok grinned in spite of himself, trying his best to remain appropriately concerned for his neighbor's mental health. "Joonmyeon," he coughed lightly, trying to regain his composure. "Is that your other brother? The dark haired one?"

 

"Yep!" Jongdae said cheerfully, snatching Jongin's mug and finished it off when it seemed as if the younger had lost interest in it. The songwriter sighed in satisfaction at the sweet but bitter brew and began washing that mug as well. "You mentioned a Luhan, didn't you? Blond? I think I might have seen him the other night when I took the trash out."

 

"That's Luhan." Minseok confirmed a bit proudly. "He's at work right now. We haven't had the chance to introduce ourselves to you yet. We would have been over sooner but my introduction with Ms. Kim... didn't go very well."

 

Jongdae made a face. "She's not exactly easy to get along with."

 

Jongin punched his brother in the stomach. "Shut up. She's nice and you know it."

 

Minseok watched the interaction before him with amusement, keeping any comments about Taeyeon Kim to himself.

 

"Anyway, the subject of old ladies and ghosties aside, I've got groceries sitting on the counter that need to be put away. Minseok, if you want, you're welcome to come over for lunch. If you know how to actually use a rice cooker instead of just guessing like I do, you're free to stay with us indefinitely." Jongdae offered, wiping off his damp hands on his jeans before hauling his brother out of his chair.

 

"Sounds great!" Minseok laughed, rising to his feet as well. "I don't know about staying forever though. Luhan might think that I don't like him anymore. I'll be over in a minute. I've just got to write a note so he won't panic and call the cops if he comes home early and I'm not here. They won't be too happy if that happens again."

 

The last part was said in a quiet mutter, not meant to be heard, but the Kim brothers laughed at it nonetheless, some of the tension flooding from Jongin's shoulders.

 

Going back to a scary place wasn't quite as hard when you had someone there to keep you company. And three dogs and three men made quite a full house.

 

Lunch was a pleasant affair, filled with the loud laughter in the company of the boys' new friend, Minseok falling in with them as if he were just another brother.

 

At Jongdae's insistence, they ate in the dining room, the chandelier overhead casting a menacing shine on the table below. At least, that's how Jongin seemed to view it, and he avoided glancing at it as he shoveled large spoonfuls of soup into his mouth, eyes stubbornly fixed on the portrait against the opposite wall. If they noticed the strange behavior, and they most certainly should have, Jongdae and Minseok were nice enough to let it pass without mention, Jongdae's chatty persona allowing him to keep the conversation going whenever Jongin fell short on his part, sudden bursts of unease about the chandelier causing him to deflate slightly.

 

All too soon, the food seemed to run out and Minseok claimed that he felt like he had overstayed his welcome, but he insisted on helping Jongdae with the dishes and Jongin bid him goodbye as they cleared the table, the youngest of the trio heading off to continue cleaning the house elsewhere.

 

“This chandelier thing really freaked him out, didn't it.” Minseok murmured, casting the decoration a thoughtful glance as he trailed behind Jongdae with his plate and the collective silverware. “He acted like it might kill him if he looked up.”

 

“Well, I can't say that's normal of him.” Jongdae admitted with a small shrug, dumping their glasses in the sink and plugging the drain as he began to fill it with hot water. “I don't like that he's scared... but to be honest, I'm glad that he was the one who got freaked out rather than Joonmyeon. If he got scared he wouldn't be able to sleep on his own for months.”

 

Minseok laughed. “I thought the oldest kid was supposed to be the bravest.”

 

“As if,” Jongdae snorted, a bit gleeful at being able to reveal his brother's secrets. “Joonmyeon-hyung can't even look at the previews for a horror movie without crying. He acts all composed and shit but the truth of it is that he's a big crybaby who never remembers to do his laundry until he's got nothing else to wear.”

 

Minseok laughed again, candy floss hair bouncing a bit as he shivered and moved from beneath the air vent, a sudden blast of cold air making the temperature drop. He leaned against the counter beside Jongdae, snatching up the spare dishtowel and drying the dishes as they were handed to him.

 

“It must be nice, though, having brothers. I have a couple of cousins my age, but we weren't very close. Actually, there are a couple I don't know at all. But everyone in my family apart from myself have a lot of brothers and sisters to keep them company. I wish I had someone like that to grow up with too, like a best friend since birth or something.”

 

“It's nice to a point. I mean, we fought a lot when we where kids, all three of us. We got on each others' nerves so badly it must have seemed like we hated each other sometimes.” Jongdae sighed, slumping against the sink, staring down the bubbles around his wrists. “It got better when we got older and stopped freaking out about how I wouldn't let Joonmyeon play with me and Jongin or how Joonmyeon always took the car out when it was my turn to use it. And we don't fight about someone hogging the bathroom now either. But it's easy to fall back on each other, I guess, now that we're all we've got left in the world – us and Aunt Taeyeon too. We still bicker about little stuff and Joonmyeon and I are pretty close in age, but we get along the worst. Having a sibling is great and all, but I don't know about the whole, 'best friend from birth thing'. Joonmyeon -hyung and I tried to mail Jongin back to the hospital about a week after he was born because we didn't like him.” Jongdae's voice turned bright at the end of his little speech, trying to inject some humor into his too solemn words.

 

It worked and his candy haired companion chuckled at the story as he set the last of the dried dishes on the counter top, still shivering slightly. The hairs on Minseok's arms and neck were standing at attention, goosebumps having risen on his arms, and his lips looked tinged with blue.

 

“Minseok!” the auburn haired man cried, reaching out to touch his new friend's cheek. “You're freezing!”

 

“I-it m-must be the air cond-ditioning.” Minseok stuttered and Jongdae could have sworn that he could see fog forming when the candy haired man breathed out.

 

“It's not on!” Jongdae breathed, glancing up at the closed vent and tightly grasping Minseok's icy hand before hurrying to the door that led from the kitchen to the side of the house. Together they stumbled out onto the grass, nearly toppling over into a bush, and immediately color rushed back to Minseok's face, the pink haired man no longer looking like a popsicle.

 

“I hate to say this,” Minseok breathed, his wide eyes staring at the house in shock. “But I think you have a ghost, man.”

 


	6. Interlude (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man in the dining room sometimes forgot his own name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This chapter/interlude references the suicide mentioned in the tags. Please take care and skip this chapter if you find it triggering in anyway. I'll put a brief summary in the end notes for anyone who does not wish to read this interlude.

_The man in the dining room sometimes forgot his own name._

 

_It wasn't too surprising, honestly._

 

_After his death, no one would really say it in their conversations, often building up to saying his name and then stopping short as they remembered themselves. As if his name was some unpleasant curse upon them all._

 

_Heechul had been mildly forgiven of his sins once they found themselves with only each other for company, but the dead hold grudges for far longer than the living. When the man ceased to entertain Heechul, the late heir of the Kim family resorted to calling the man the depressing one, the buzzkill._

 

_'We're dead,' Heechul had huffed the first time he'd spat the title out. "But I'm still young and I'd like to live a little. Y'know,_ have some fun around here _?'_

 

_Mostly, the man in the dining room forgot his name because he didn't want to remember._

 

_That name, the one like a curse to cover innocent ears against, only carried a lifetime of bittersweet and painful memories and the things he wanted, no, **needed** to forget._

 

_He was dead and the memories of his life shouldn't matter to him any longer._

 

_The man shuddered as he floated above the dining room table, his heels clicking together occasionally as he swayed in the nonexistent breeze, like some horrible marionette wearing a parody of Dorothy's ruby slippers._

 

There's no place like home...

 

_His head lolled back._

 

_Above him, the chandelier twinkled in the dim light that came through the windows, the crystals reflecting the sunlight and distracting him from his thoughts._

 

_The chandelier held no unpleasant memories. This particular decoration had been installed soon after his death, to cover up the horrible memory of what had taken place in this room so long ago. The man liked to watch the lights shimmer against the walls, against the crystals._

 

_He sighed blissfully, ignoring the panicked sounds from the kitchen where Heechul was no doubt causing chaos for his young relatives and their guest. Absentmindedly, his hands drifted towards his throat, adjusting the rope that held snugly against his skin. Like the chandelier, he often hung above the dining table, revealing in the freedom from his memories that the rope gave him._

 

_One of the boys ran outside with his guest, slumping against one another in the garden and the man smiled serenely at the sight of them playing so well together._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The man in the dining room does not want to remember his name and lets everything in his mind fade as the happenings from the previous chapter go on around him.


End file.
